The picture evokes different kinds of emotions, but mostly the melancholy ones. Like waiting for something or someone that would never come.
P.S. Ever since I took this photo it has been etched on my mind. I hope you really feel something out of it.
Flee—it has become the word that her heart has been pumping. To run away, fade, and vanish.
Ambitions turn into demons controlling the mind, dreams are screaming where are we going with this life?
Fade and vanish. Away from this free world prisoning her to live the way she likes.
And maybe die.
And it just dawned on me that we’re halfway through the year.
I wonder if I’m anywhere near my dreams, if I can reach my goals, and if my feelings are valid and real.
Some days are full of doubts, some are blooming with colors, and the others sound just the same—the monotonous life that we lead to survive.
This night looks similar to the nights before, when a simple fact or idea that entered my mind will make me look at my life, the past, particularly. And then comes a rational female voice which reminds me that what I have right now is more important than dwelling with what’s gone, with the past. It will also whisper something sweet, that there’s something to look forward to in the future.
And right when I’m about to sleep, the stars will put me in awe, especially the one that’s closest to the moon. It kind of tells me to hold on to my life dearer, or even as much as it holds on to the sky, just to see the moon.
And maybe that’s why I wake up each day, to get closer to my moon.
Ideas, projects, dreams, feelings. I have countless of those, and many more things. We all have, that sometimes we get all too caught up we forget to focus on one aspect of our lives at a time.
We wanted to do, to finish, a lot of things on the same day, to be as productive as much as we can, but it’s only reducing the quality of what we’re doing. It’s breaking our creativeness and our energy into parts, trying to fill in all holes without much deliberation, without considering that putting your heart out or focusing on one will give you only the best result, if not perfect. We’re trying too hard, writing down all our ideas for a project that might never be because you thought of a better one, setting aside the previous idea and the rest before that. We dream a lot, and even though there’s nothing wrong with that, there’s nothing right that we do to achieve it either, we just let them be our dreams when we can actually pick the one we like most and start working our butts off for it to be our reality. And sometimes, we want to feel too much, we demand more from ourselves (and the others) what we know all of us can never give, which just makes us sad—the one feeling we don’t want.
So without much deliberation I wrote this, to feel sorry for myself—for trying too hard, for dreaming a lot, and for wanting to feel more. And in case you found yourself in my shoes, maybe we can stop for a moment and start to deliberate our lives.
Daily Post’s Countless.
Warm tears still go down my cold face. I started running but I still have a long way. I haven’t tried driving but I’m halfway there. And the only thing I’ve climbed up are the stairs.
Ten months after this post and I’m pretty much still wandering. I turned 21 just this January and though I have figured out some things in life I think I will forever wander. It’s a changing world and how are we going to keep up if we wouldn’t change as well? Only time can tell.
I experienced a lot of firsts in my 20th year and even though the last two quarters of 2015 were somehow bleak, that was also the time when most of the unfamiliar things in life that made me who I am today came. I never asked them to introduce themselves but fate decided to intervene. Oh well. I’ve been to new places, watched more films of my liking, listened to unknown artists, wrote poems on love, met different types of people (and some became my friends), learned more about my demands, aspirations, and necessities, and discovered the pessimistic side of me which was sad. Not to mention my heart bursting with feelings it never knew existed.
It seems like everything turned out well and I felt like I needed to go through whatever happened before in order for me to continue living. I’ve seen the glimpse of my dark side and it’s not pleasing, but I’m proud that I was able to keep my head and be back on my usual strange self. The one that watches thrillers, reads romance, and thinks mermaids are real. The usual strange her made better.
2.6.15 | 4.39PM
The hand I’m using to write this down will be cut off soon. Day after tomorrow, in particular. But I can still use a voice recognition software to save my thoughts virtually. Or, this I prefer, I can ask someone to write them down for me.
When you truly love something, you will always find a way for it. Remember that, bro.
The paper on the sidewalk contained that note. He ignited a dying flame in my discouraged heart. Now I wanna do theater again.
Daily Post’s Everything Changes.
All I want is to trace his charming profile—from his Greek shaped nose to his tempting red lips down to the stubble on his chin.
I’m guessing his nose as tall as his pride is a bit oily, lips as rough as his attitude, and the stubble is just the right amount of smart and sexy.
The trouble is if I’m going to meet him. For, right now, he only lives in my dreams.
Daily Post’s The Power of Touch. [Photo]